


Home Alone

by AvaRosier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier/pseuds/AvaRosier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt about ugly Christmas sweaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Alone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toflowerknights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toflowerknights/gifts).



It was just after 6:30 when he got the text.

_Come over. Home Alone on TV tonite, have hot choc._

Bellamy took a moment to silently disapprove of the textspeak before he answered Finn’s message.

 _Sure give me ten_.

“Ma, I’m headed next door to watch a movie,” Bellamy hollered down the stairs as he headed towards the kitchen where his mother and sister were busy singing along to Christmas music and making holiday cookies for something at Octavia’s school.

His little sister, who had a preternatural sense for these kinds of things, raised her eyebrows at him gleefully. “You’re going to watch a movie with  _Finn_? You were just bitching about him raking the leaves in a tank the other day.”

Bellamy’s hackles rose. “Well, it was a ridiculous thing to do when it was forty-two degrees outside. He was probably showing off for that Reyes girl on the other side of the fence.”

“Raven’s still in school up north. I don’t think he was showing off, let alone for  _her_  benefit,” Aurora said, licking batter off her spoon with a twinkle in her eye.  Bellamy flushed at the implication.

“Whatever. I’ll be back later.”

He slowed himself down before he looked like a fool running to what was just a friendly invitation by his next-door neighbor. Finn opened the door several seconds after the bell rang and grinned at Bellamy, who could only stare at him with his mouth agape.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Finn glanced down at the bright red Christmas sweater that had large stitchwork reindeer galloping across the material and fuzzy white cotton balls sewn on as tails. “’Tis the season and it’s not a Christmas movie if you’re not looking like a complete idiot. You should try it sometime.”

"I’ll pass." Bellamy followed Finn inside. "Where’s Nancy and Milo?" Bellamy liked Finn’s parents, both of them were teachers who had passed on their good-natured personalities to their son.

"Date night. It’s just us here tonight." Finn glanced over his shoulder and had the audacity to wink. Which of course had Bellamy flushing and wondering whether that was just a tease or a come-on. 

But then the asshole actually refused to give Bellamy any hot chocolate unless he put on a sweater, too. “ _Nana makes me a sweater every year. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would you, Bellamy_?” He tried, he really did, to stand his ground. But there was just something about the way Finn simply did not take himself too seriously that appealed to Bellamy and he found himself relenting.

God, why did he have to go and develop a stupid crush on Collins of all people?

The hideous sweater that Finn tossed at him was green and had a large stitched Christmas tree front and center, with tiny ornaments sewn on. Finn’s eyes were trailing down his torso when Bellamy popped his head through the neck hole, and he couldn’t help flushing and wondering whether…

“Do you want schnapps in yours?”

“What?” Bellamy asked dumbly.

“Do you want peppermint schnapps in your hot chocolate?” Finn repeated patiently, lingering in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Yeah, sure. Why not. We’re going all out tonight.” He griped.

That only got a chuckle out of Finn. “There’s plenty of room on my bed, make yourself comfortable.”

And then Bellamy was alone in Finn’s bedroom, staring down at the haphazardly made bed with mute horror.  The bed was pressed against a wall, so Bellamy grabbed one of the pillows and propped it up, his legs just long enough for his shoes to barely hang over the edge.  There was a guitar in one corner. A tall bookshelf with texts that varied from poetry to politics to social justice to wilderness stories.

Groaning silently, he stared down at his lap where he had just felt a twinge.  _Traitor_.

Thankfully he heard Finn’s footsteps on the stairs several seconds before he paced carefully into the room, carrying two steaming mugs. Once they were set on the side table next to Bellamy, Finn hopped on the mattress next to Bellamy. Like, right next to him. Close enough that their shoulders and hips were touching.

Bellamy’s heart began to pound a little faster.  _Click_. The television turned on just as the movie started and the family on the screen was running around getting ready for their trip.  Shit, this movie had come out the same year he’d been born.

“How long you home for?” Bellamy asked during the commercial break, feeling like they should at least make small talk, lest an awkward silence become conspicuous. This turned out to be a mistake because, in the act of turning his head to face Finn…and Finn doing the same…their noses were less than a foot apart.

“I’m heading back to school on the 29th. You?”

“I have off work until the 3rd of January.”

“Lucky.”

“Not really, my boss is a bit of an asshole.”

Then two commercials later:

“I just don’t understand why it’s necessary for us to be wearing these ugly, godforsaken Christmas sweaters.”

Finn reached past Bellamy, brushing his arm against Bellamy’s abdomen as he wrapped his hand around his mug. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be such a Grinch, Bellamy?”

His mom. His sister. He can’t help it, he’s just a born pessimist.  Except when he’s been drinking too much tequila, then he’s the happiest bastard on the planet. Which is why he never drinks the stuff anymore (that and his friends made one too many Vines of him in his exuberant state.) Now, the thing is, Bellamy’s often stopped himself from being spontaneous, too used to trying to be responsible . But he’s halfway through his spiked hot chocolate, the two lamps still on in Finn’s bedroom barely cut through the darkness, and it’s Christmastime. Warmth suffused his limbs and made him relax further against Finn’s side.

During the scene where the kid was being stalked through the store, Finn reached out with his fingers and stroked Bellamy’s hand. Bellamy didn’t jerk away—he turned his palm over and allowed the caress.

By the time the burglars were making their entrance, Bellamy barely registered the racket coming out of the TV. His body had tightened almost to the point of pain and his mind was a whirlwind of ‘ _should I_ ’ and ‘ _just do it alreadys’_.

“Screw it,” Bellamy muttered before twisting around and pushing Finn’s long hair back so he could cup the other man’s scruffy jaw and capture his lips in a kiss. Finn made a small  _oomph_  of surprise but began responding almost right off the bat.

At some point, Bellamy was feeling overheated and pulled away long enough to yank the offending sweater over his head. There was a loud rip and Finn began to protest.

“You’re ripping my Nana’s sweater!”

Bellamy shushed him with another kiss, muttering against Finn’s lips, “I’ll write her a damn thank-you note.”


End file.
